


His Faith

by Rin_SchwarzFeuer



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Gen, German National Team, How Do I Tag, basti isn't actually in this, mentions of other players, pretty gen just mentions of slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 13:52:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3652827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rin_SchwarzFeuer/pseuds/Rin_SchwarzFeuer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place of refuge, of stability. What is it? A church? A house? What about a country?</p>
<p>Or...maybe a person? Perhaps?</p>
<p>Or</p>
<p>Lukas muses</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Faith

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is. Wrote it Friday after I managed to pull myself together after that friendly against Australia.

A place of refuge, of stability. What is it? A church? A house? What about a country? A ball in your hands, on your feet? A pitch-or any flat surface at first that becomes a green field with white lines and cheers and songs and fans.

Or...maybe a person? Perhaps?

Basti. Basti. Basti.

That is what (who) your refuge is. Your stability. You always believed it was a ball and a green pitch. Oh how wrong you were. Even the country you chose with a pounding heart and a black eagle on a white background 

(So different from the white eagle on the red but so similar at the same time. You wonder sometimes about the differences)

Even that country (your country) has given up-is giving up and you wonder which is worse. The country that once called you their prince. 

(You still hear “der Prinz” in your head and you don’t know if to laugh or cry).

No they still call you that if you listen hard enough. They haven’t given up on you just yet. Yet. But...

Basti. Basti. Basti.

He is your refuge. Your stability. Your home. Unwavering, unbending in everything. In everything he loves. You thank whatever deity is looking down on you that you have his love, his faith.

(Sometimes you wonder if everything that has happened-is happening-is the price for having your Basti)

(You don’t care. You’d love to believe you’d always choose your Basti no matter the price)

Basti. The second most important thing to you.

(Your son will always come first no matter what you can never regret your son)

(Louis is the sun, the thing that lights up your world. Basti is the beauty you see, he is the reason you don’t see the ugly bare world that they are trying to push)

Basti’s faith in you means everything. His steadfast “Of course Podolski is important to the team, of course.” is what gives you the strength. It’s more than Jogi’s faith, more than Miro’s, more than anyone else and you know it, he knows it and they know it.

 

Basti doesn’t say a word to you when Jogi tells you to warm up. In fact you can’t even remember if he looked at you. But you don’t need him to, to know you have his unwavering support. This is it. You ready yourself, take your place at the edge and clap Marco and then you’re off.

(Briefly you cringe. You saw how Marco didn’t celebrate his goal with much gusto. You wonder how long it will take for him to stop replaying your team-his team-lifting a golden trophy in the Brazilian night without him)

As you run, trying, trying, always trying, you see Mesut with the armband and you can’t help but notice. You saw the way Benni took it from Sami only to give it to Mesut. Mesut.  
He’s like you in more ways than one. The most common right now could be your seeming fall from grace. 

Except that isn’t right. You won’t fall and even if you do you refuse to let him fall with you.

(But he won’t you’re confident of that. Just as you have your Basti, Mesut has his Sami)

 

You don’t remember the goal. You don’t remember anything except the ball coming towards you and you doing what was instinctive. What you were meant to do.

You heard it though. You heard the screams, you heard the chants, you heard your name. You heard your teammates’ cheers and then you were surrounded by an ecstatic Andre. Your only regret is that you can’t see Basti’s reaction but you know without a doubt that he’s probably happier for you than you are.

You don’t know what to feel. Joy, excitement. You feel that and you feel pride and relief as well.

The rest of the match is a blur. You almost get another and you briefly despair. What a night it would’ve been, for you to get a brace and score the winner. 

But it doesn’t work out like that and you’re no less happy about the draw.

When you leave the field, after finding Basti’s gaze and getting a grin in return for your own you hear the stats.

48 goals for Germany.

Germany’s 3rd all-time leading scorer.

122 appearances for the national team.

(Perhaps what’s the most intriguing stat is it took you seven minutes on the field to score. Seven.)

You won’t lie, scoring helped. It definitely wasn’t enough to make you forget this season. But it was a start you suppose.

(You don’t think anything can make you forget. Even thumbing that gold medal doesn’t help a bit)

You go on with a smile as you always do. You’re not going to just give up as you informed the reporter after the match, but you know you’re not anywhere near where you were just because of one goal.

But right now it doesn’t matter. All that matters is a soft smile and greying blonde hair. All that matters is the man who believes in you so much you wonder how he has any left for the others.

You know the only way you can repay Basti’s faith in you is to prove it’s not wasted. So you’re going to try everything to do just that.

(2016 is your last chance and you know it. It’s the last for you both. You’re going to make it as memorable as possible in the best way. You’re winning that trophy next year, if only for Basti to hold it in his hands with that band wrapped tightly around his arm, reflecting the colours wrapped around both your hearts.)

**Author's Note:**

> So first time feeling confident enough to post in this style. Tell me what you think!


End file.
